


The Willow Bends (so it does not break)

by Mousieta



Series: The Seduction of the Gotei 13 [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst and Porn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousieta/pseuds/Mousieta
Summary: Byakuya's life is in shambles, his honor and very morality in question after the battles with Ichigo and his compatriots, after the impending execution of his sister. Quiet repose in his manor was usually his answer, but for some reason his feet refuse to find their way home. Instead he finds himself seeking out his fellow Captains for answers, for healing, and yes, also for pleasure.
Relationships: Kuchiki Byakuya/Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushirou, Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushirou
Series: The Seduction of the Gotei 13 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1487825
Comments: 20
Kudos: 48





	The Willow Bends (so it does not break)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh this was a treat to write. Set just after *spoilers* the averted execution of Rukia, in which Byakuya wrestles with the fallout of his choices and what they mean about who he is, now. 
> 
> Also, a shameless excuse for smut because, as has been said, that boy needs a good dicking.

The Seireitei was in an uproar; a bacchanal orgy of excess and exuberance as the days of intense battles came to a sudden end. The drama of an execution, an attack by outsiders, then the death cum betrayal of those as high and illustrious as Captains had strung all emotions taut until they snapped, Soul Reapers and commoners alike losing their minds to wine and debauchery. 

Byakuya wandered the dusty streets, evading drunkards and dodging flirtatious hands, ignoring the raucous cries for him to come and join. Only immense amounts of alcohol could fuel such invitations and, though his lip curled in distaste and he muttered judgements at the offenders, his heart was not in it as it once would have been. And not so long ago, at that. 

Nights like this were uncommon but  _ did  _ happen, the release of pent up emotion and struggle. Usually he stayed out of them entirely, preferring to whether the transmutation of his own tension in quiet, peaceful reflection safely ensconced in the Kuchiki mansion. From there he could easily judge humanity and find it wanting. 

Yet, tonight, he walked the streets, feet unwilling to return home. Rukia’s face haunted him as the words of his apology to her echoed in his mind. 

There was so much to apologize for but the fist that clamped his heart tight was the thought that he hadn’t  _ quite _ gotten what all his apology had encapsulated. 

_ “If I were in your position, I’d fight the law with every bit of strength I had!”  _ Kurosaki Ichigo’s words still burned, their fire of truth sinking deep into him. He had known, as he heard the words, that they were righteous, that they were what he  _ should _ be doing. Fighting for Rukia, his sister, his family; honoring the vow he made to Hisana-

“I will protect her with all my strength,” he’d promised as his beloved took her dying breaths, and he’d meant it with every fiber of his being, the vow to protect Rukia sealed with the light of his life as it burned out. 

And then the universe conspired to place him within the crucible of honor. His vow to his parents, made in the depths of his pride - pride in his status, his family, his obligations - beset by the vow made from the depths of his love. 

It was so confusing. He knew the Kurosaki boy was right. He knew it deep in the same part of him that he knew he loved his wife, honored his family and served the Seireitei. 

He’d emerged from his crucible, changed in some fundamental way but what that was, he still did not understand. Reality was wholly different, now. Overwhelmed, drowning in thoughts that were barely words, assaulted by concepts that felt too large to comprehend, he paused, head dipping as he sought to catch his breath. 

The silvery chime of laughter pulled him from his thoughts and he came to, looking up at the bar that stood across the street from Squad 13’s barracks. Byakuya caught the familiar shine of Captain Ukitake’s silvery-white hair as he shook with laughter. Beneath his high peal came the deeper rumbling of Captain Kyoraku, beside him as ever. 

He knew the pair well, had for centuries. He trusted Ukitake deeply, enough to have entrusted him with Hisana’s sister. He also knew about the pairs antics. How could he not? Though it was not common knowledge, it was old news to anyone of Captain class. 

He had waited, upon elevation to Captainship, for them to turn their attention to him; he anticipated turning them away. However, they’d never come. Perhaps it has been out of respect. A part of him gave them credit for not approaching a widower with their deviance. But standing there, the eye in the storm of revels, it struck him that they may not have  _ wanted _ him. 

It was a wholly knew consideration and one that flushed his cheeks red to his ears in anger. 

He knew, personally, that they had taken every  _ other _ captain and most of the Lieutenants as well - his own lieutenant had fallen to their seductions only recently. He could countenance no slights to his station as Captain much less his position as a Kutchiki. 

There was also a part of him, a small, unacknowledged, part that was curious. 

What did his honor say, now, about fidelity. He’d shut himself off from every indulgence after she’d left, convinced he was honoring her. But now that right and wrong seemed to have completely redefined themselves, was it unfaithful to his wife's memory to continue abstaining? What did his love think of the choices he’d made since she’d passed? Part of him knew that she would not approve of the way he’d sealed himself off from any pleasure, but acknowledging that hurt.

Did it besmirch his honor to have been excluded by this, the oldest pair of captains in the whole of the Soul Society?

Perhaps it was these thoughts that propelled him into the bar and across the large room, leaving a shocked hush in his wake. But, maybe, it was also something else, something, he might admit after a few bottles of wine shared with a sweetly smiling Ukitake and a boisterous Kyoraku, something a bit closer to lust.  _ There is nothing ignoble about camaraderie between fellow captains, _ he told himself. 

Humans  _ were _ messy, after all. And tonight, for the first time in decades, Byakuya was feeling a bit more human.

“Well now, Captain Kuchiki,” Kyoraku drawled, looking up to Byakuya, “I did not expect to see you here.” 

There were many retorts Byakuya could give, defensive or challenging. He opted, instead to merely sit, sliding down smoothly to face the pair across the narrow table. 

“Shunsui-” Ukitake tsked and reached a hand out to retrieve a clean cup, “there is no need to be confrontational.” He opened a fresh bottle and poured for Byakuya, one decorous hand holding the sleeve of his pouring arm back. Ukitake dipped his head in a small bow as he gave a quarter turn to the bottle, letting the last drop slip down into the cup. “Everyone is allowed to indulge a little.”

The soul reapers that had been lolling around the table slowly shifted, pulling off into discussions with the tables nearby, politely leaving the captain’s to themselves. Byakuya could  _ feel _ their attention, however, even with their eyes averted. His pride twinged and for some reason it carried with it a flick of shame.  _ But there is nothing shameful in a drink _ , he reassured himself. 

He brought his cup to his lips and took a polite ship. Ukitake’s eyes watched, and Byakuya felt a flush rise to his cheeks as his mind provided all the possible things running through Ukitake’s mind. He was being judged. He hated it. 

“Good?” Ukitake asked. Byakuya nodded though his tongue had registered nothing. He fluttered his eyelids closed for a moment, mind screaming that he should get a grip.

A cool hand draped over his wrist. “Here,” Ukitake said, voice low, soft, like he was trying to offer comfort. “Have another.” Looking down, Byakuya realized the cup had been drained. Ukitake pulled his hand forward and poured his cup full again. 

Byakuya held the cup but did not drink, instead simply looking at Ukitake, his face still calm, and Kyoraku, beside him, with a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. 

“Say what you so obviously have to say,” Byakuya commanded and inwardly cringed at the hostility in his voice. Rudeness was not the way he wanted to go this evening. 

_ What way  _ do _ you want to go tonight?,  _ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. 

“So what brings you out into the rabble?” Kyoraku asked. “Don’t you normally hole up in your fortress on nights like this?”

Unable to answer Kyoraku or confront his own mind, Byakyua downed the cup again. 

“Shunsui -” Ukitake’s voice was conciliatory, “perhaps our fellow Captain would just like a change of pace.”

“Have you guys fucked everyone in this forsaken place but me?” Byakuya spit out before he could stop himself. 

They answered simultaneously, Ukitake with a scandalized gasp and Kyoraku with a drawlled, “welllll.”

The cup in Byakuya’s hand slammed down onto the table. “I’ve heard the rumors.”

“All of them true, baby.” A leer shaded Kyoraku’s smile, checked by the soft press of Ukitake’s hand to his forearm where it rested on the table. 

“It is -” Ukitake paused - “unseemly to discuss such things publically - ” 

Byakuya cut him off. “Why not me?”

“Did you want us to?” Ukitake’s eyes were sincere, earnest.

Byakuya agonized that he did not know the answer to that. He deflected. “I asked first.”

“We didn’t think you’d go for it,” Kyoraku said, voice more sober now, eyes a bit clearer. He sat up straight. “It didn’t  _ seem  _ like you would and -”

“We prefered to not to force you to endure the awkwardness of rejecting us.”

“How did you know you would be rejected?” Even as he said it he knew it to be a stupid question. He had no illusions to his own character. 

The pair just looked at him, Kyoraku in confusion and Ukitake - Ukitake’s gaze brought heat surging up Byakuya’s collar. “Would you reject us now?” he asked, voice low, cutting thru all of the bullshit Byakuya had dumped onto the table. 

Byakuya reached across the table and plucked the bottle from Ukitake’s hand, bringing it to his lips. With deep, wide gulps, he finished the last of it, then set it down between them. 

“Would you reject me?” his voice was steady but inside, his heart writhed as it contemplated that they may not give him the answer he wanted to hear. 

_ What answer  _ do _ you want to hear? _

“I would not,” Kyoraku said to the air beside him with a wave of his hand. Byakuya’s stomach flipped over. 

“Come,” Ukitake said and in one fluid motion he rose, nary a sway to his stance. “Let us retire. My rooms are only a short way away.” 

Instantly Byakuya’s skin burned and his stomach churned. What had he done?  _ What you have wanted to do for a long time,  _ a voice inside him said and he knew it was true. 

The walk was short but just long enough for the weight of too much alcohol consumed in too short a time to slam into him. As if waiting for it, suddenly the pair were on either side of him, Kyoraku’s arm wrapping his and Ukitake’s hand pressing to the small of his back. 

The room he was led to was a respectable way from the rest of the squad’s barracks, not that it mattered on a night like tonight. They were the only beings in the whole compound, even the servents, seemingly, lost to the festivities. 

Byakuya stood in the doorway a moment, the sleeping mats on the floor seemingly enormous, the weight of time from the last time he’d been with a partner slammed into him. Suddenly, the ground under his feet went sticky and too soft like he was being chased in a dream and unable to move. 

Ukitake was there. 

“At any moment, for any reason, you can end this.” He spoke in a whisper, a lilt to his voice that soothed over the anxiety clawing at Byakuya. Kyoraku’s hands, firm and warm, took his and pulled him into the room. 

They stood, the three of them, looking at one another, the bed just beside them. Before awkwardness could descend, however, Kyoraku glided forward, his lips pressing a full kiss to Byakuya’s own. 

Instinctively Byakuya tilted his head, letting himself be pulled into Kyoraku’s embrace. A soft glide of tongue teased and he opened his mouth to push his own tongue into Kyoraku’s. He tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, the memory of wine and fruit flavoring the kiss. 

He preened inwardly as Kyoraku let out a low groan. He had always taken the act of lovemaking as seriously as everything else to which he applied himself, and though it had been decades, he remembered all the lessons he’d learned. 

And so, he set to it with single minded determination and a smug assurance that he would be the best the pair ever had. His pride demanded nothing less.

Breaking the kiss, he turned to Ukitake, still beside them, watching with pleasure. With efficient and elegant motions Byakuya stripped himself, stepping out of his pants, then pulled away Ukitake’s clothes, exposing skin from chest to thigh. He dropped, pulling Ukitake’s pants down as he took hiis half hard length into his mouth. Memories from lifetimes ago surged forth and he began sucking and licking with confidence. With his free hand he reached for Kyoraku, palming at the hardening length at his groin. 

He expected more moans, writhing indications of pleasure, but there was silence. Increasing suction, he swirled his tongue over Ukitake’s head, striking all the spots he knew would bring the most satisfaction. Still, there was nothing. Only the pulsing hardness of the cock in his mouth registered his efforts. 

Opening his eyes, he looked up. Ukitake’s face was placid but there was the barest fraction of pity shading his gaze. Byakuya recoiled, incensed.  _ How dare he- _

But before he could pull back completely a soft hand stroked through his hair. It was gentle but its steadiness, the hard line of Ukitake’s lips, kept Byakuya from shrugging off his touch. Ukitake’s eyes held his for a long moment - longer, perhaps, than he had ever looked into anyone’s eyes. Anyone but-

Before the thought could summon the memory of  _ her  _ face, Ukitake’s hand moved, a delicate finger tracing down Byakuya’s brow to his chin. A firm pull from that finger brought Byakuya up to stand, then into a kiss, soft and deep. 

Ukitake’s hands cupped his face tenderly. They kissed and kissed, the hands sliding down to his neck, to his shoulders, roaming over his chest then back to his face again and still they kissed; time seemed to fracture. He swam in a haze of alcohol, emotions and the inebriating press of Ukitake consuming him. Byakuya forgot about the demands of his own surging desire as his focus was enthralled. Breathless, heart racing from the intensity, he felt a press at his thigh. Sparing a glance, he looked down to find Kyoraku, naked, looking up at them rapturously, a hand on each of their thighs. 

Byakuya realized he had softened almost completely whereas Ukitake was still enticingly hard. Embarrassed, he moved to pull away again but Ukitake reclaimed his mouth, refusing to let Byakuya dwell. 

As they kissed he felt Kyoraku take in his soft cock, sucking it whole into his mouth, smooth swallowing motions rippling over it. Byakuya moaned as he hardened again, the sound swallowed by Ukitake. 

“There you are,” Ukitake groaned, pleased.

The heat surrounding his cock disappeared and Byakuya looked down again to watch the entirety of Ukitake’s long, slender, length disappear into Kyoraku’s mouth. His movements were slow, languid. Kyoraku teased as much as he sucked, sometimes letting Ukitake’s cock pop out of his mouth to drag over his jaw or cheek. His lips seemed to dance around and over it, first at the head, then down to its base. 

After a while he turned the same attention to Byakuya, teasing, taunting, then overwhelming him. He alternated between sweet engulfment and tantalizing distance, stringing Byakuya out, stretching him thin over waves of pleasure. Through it all Ukitake continued stroking him, kissing him, alternating in perfect time to Kyoraku’s teasing. All consuming, deep kisses one moment were chased by soft, sweet pecks to cheek, jaw, neck. 

Ukitake spent an eternity sucking the most delicate strip of Byakuya’s neck, while Kyoraku turned his attention to laving his tongue over the sensitive skin of his balls. Kyoraku’s large hands brought the two of them together, sliding their cocks together in one of his hands. 

“Yes, moan again, louder this time,” Ukitake crooned. Byakuya hadn’t realized he’d made a sound. He usually prized himself on his restraint, his control. 

Kyoraku stroked them, heat from his hand, the pressure constricting them, the slick glide of Ukitake’s pulsing cock - 

Byakuya heard his own drawn out moan. 

“Yes just like that,” Ukitake crooned and returned to his sucking kisses. 

Byakuya seemed to drift, space as meaningless as time, existing only between the sensations of Ukitake and Kyoraku surrounding him. 

Slowly, between them, Byakuya begin to understand pleasure in a way he never had before. It was not just about climax, the release. The journey of pleasure was everything. 

A sharp knife stabbed into his heart and he flinched with his whole body, contracting and pulling away. 

_ Her  _ face was before him, the memory of countless, endless nights they had shared a bed together. 

He had been doing it wrong, for years, and now - now it was too late. He sobbed, brokenly. 

Ukitake was there in an instant, hands firm as they cupped his face, compelled his eyes to open.

“No.” Ukitake’s own eyes were hard, but not angry. “No you loved each other,” he said as though reading Byakuya’s mind. “We all knew how deeply she loved you and how happy you made her. In no way did you fail her.”

“But-” Byakuya said. He’d never made love to her like this. 

“But nothing,” Ukitake said. “You’re love gave more satisfaction than this.”

The pain in his heart doubled, tripled, became unbearable. Ukitake kissed his cheeks, first one side then the other, then the corner of his eye. Pulling back, his lips were wet. Byakuya realized that tears were falling down his face and Ukitake kissed every one. 

“What matters in love,” Kyoraku said, voice rough and low, “is that you give everything you can, everything you know to give.” 

“Did you do that?” Ukitake asked. 

Byakuya nodded and let out a shuddering breath. 

Warm, strong arms wrapped around him, Kyoraku moving up to envelop both of them, press them together in his embrace. Ukitake kissed Byakuya again, salt on his tongue from the tears and a sweetness that pierced through the agony of Byakuya’s heart. 

Breaking off, Ukitake pulled back far enough for Kyoraku to take his turn, pressing his own kiss to Byakuya’s lips, soft and almost chaste. 

He became aware of Kyoraku’s hand, still stroking him, half hard again. 

“I’m sorry -” Byakuya mumbled, and inwardly cursed his weakness. 

“Shhhh.” Ukitake’s finger returned to his chin. “Stop thinking and just feel.”

Kyoraku’s hand continued stroking Byakuya’s length, and at each peak, he dragged it along Ukitake’s cock, wetting it with the precome leaking from him, slicking the glide of the stroke. 

They kissed again and again, first Ukitake, then Kyoraku, and slowly Byakuya’s mind began to unravel again as the pair recast their magic. 

With care, he let them guide him to the bed. He lay in a sprawl, Ukitake sliding between his parted legs, Kyoraku laying alongside him. 

Ukitake brought Byakuya’s legs up to bend at the knee, using them to leverage himself as he frotted against him. Ukitake’s cock, still hard, gliding over Byakuya’s stomach, over his cock rhythmically as Ukitake undulated in slow waves. 

Kyoraku plucked up Byakuya’s free hand wrapping it around his cock. “Stroke me,” he coaxed and Byakuya flexed his hand, stroking up and down, instinctively matching Ukitake’s rocking thrusts. 

Kyoroaku sucked and kissed at the sensitive skin of his neck, letting his groans spill from his lips to echo in Byakuya’s ear. Every growl of pleasure sparking lightning down Byakuya’s spine. 

He was pulled up and repositioned, hips angled differently to allow Ukitake’s cock to slide down along the cleft of his ass. 

“Have you ever been penetrated?” Kyoraku rumbled. 

Byakuya nodded frantically as he realized what Ukitake was preparing to do. “But,” he gasped out, “it’s been - a long time.” His own voice was a shock to his ears, raw and breathless. 

“I will be slow and gentle,” Ukitake promised. He pulled Byakuya up onto his lap. Byakuya clenched in anticipation but he was not penetrated, Ukitake’s cock tucked down to just press its shaft against him. 

Before he could dwell on what he’d agreed to, Kyoraku hopped over him, straddling him, strong arms coming down on either side of his head.

He kissed Byakuya, lips already tender and raw but craving more, craving everything. 

“Yes,” Byakuya sighed, as he felt himself directed up against Kyoraku. 

Molten heat surrounded his cock and his breath froze in his chest. Lips pressed at the corner of his mouth. “Breathe,” Kyoraku said as he pressed himself down, taking in Byakuya to his base.

Byakuya groaned, a sound ripped from his core as the heat and pressure of Kyoraku surrounded him, engulfed him, destroyed him. “So long,” he managed to get out. 

“Yes you are,” Kyoraku said with a hum and a look at his face revealed he’d purposefully misunderstood. 

“You’re insufferable,” Byakuya said but affection tugged at his heart. 

“I am that,” Kyoraku agreed. He shifted up onto his knees, bracing himself on Byakuya’s chest as he began to fuck himself down, riding Byakuya like he’d done it hundreds of times, hips working him over. 

The skill of Kyoraku’s work almost distracted Byakuya from the pressure Ukitake still hard against his ass. Unable to see, he could only sense the dull press of Ukitake’s head upon his entrance.

White hands came around Kyoraku’s chest, stilling him though he continued to clench and release his hold around Byakuya’s cock. Kyoraku held perfectly still as Ukitake slid against him, slick and long, the stretch intense.

There was no burn, thankfully. Memory reminded him this  _ could _ hurt. But he’d been drawn out loose and pliable to their whims, muscles warm and welcoming. 

“So good,” Kyoraku crooned and Byakuya’s eyes fluttered open. Kyoraku and Ukitake looked down at him. 

Ukitake nodded. “You  _ are _ beautiful, Kuchiki-san.” 

Byakuya flushed with embarrassment and the pair took pity on him, turning their attention to one another as Kyoraku leaned back against Ukitake to share a kiss, Ukitake’s hips shifting ever-so-slowly as he continued sliding in to Byakuya. 

He watched them, entranced by their own beauty - so visible now - held between the exquisite pleasure of penetrating and being penetrated. 

Ukitake gave Kyoraku a few quick strokes with his hand and Byakuya felt an almost painful squeeze around his cock as Kyoraku came with a long, drawn out moan. It took all of Byakuya’s control to not finish right behind him. 

With a sigh he shifted. “Where are you going?” Kyoraku panted. 

Byakuya blinked in confusion. “I was going to let you -” he waved his hand gesturing for Kyoraku to move aside. 

Kyoraku laughed and began moving up and down again, dragging himself along Byakuya’s length. “Why would I stop?”

“Because, you finished?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Kyoraku didn’t bother to wait for an answer as he fell forward again to kiss Byakuya quiet. 

Then Ukitake began to thrust in earnest, and speaking became an impossibility. He was methodical and steady, letting pleasure rise in every swelling crests within Byakuya. Above him, Kyoraku was there, also riding to Ukitake’s pace, still liquid fire engulfing Byakuya. 

It didn’t take long. 

Within minutes he crested and peaked,convulsing as he came buried deeply in Kyoraku. Ukitake rode him through it, still thrusting as he pulsed a final time. 

“Done,” he cried out, pleasure quickling turning to pain. “Done, please,” he begged. 

Wordlessly, Kyoraku stood and disappeared while Ukitake slid up beside him. He pushed the pillows positioning him away. 

“Good?” he asked and wordlessly, Byakuya nodded. 

After a moment he managed, “I am not quite up to continuing like you do.”

“Don’t worry about that.” 

Kyoraku returned with warm, wet cloths and set to cleaning them as a wave of weariness pulled at Byakuya. Before his eyes could fully close, however, he noted that Ukitake was still hard.

“Are you not-?” Byakuya asked, confused for probably the hundredth time that night. 

“Oh,” Ukitaki said languidly, “probably won’t again tonight without more effort than I’m willing to exert. I  _ am _ ill you know.” He smiled coyly and feigned a cough. “I had a bit of fun with an old friend earlier, so I’m good.” He stretched out a hand and scratched at Kyoraku’s stubble. “More than good actually.” He grinned at Kyoraku who placed an affectionate kiss on his cheek before disappearing to take their soiled linens away.

“Then why?”

Ukitaki’s smile deepend, eyes sparkling knowingly. Still, he asked, “why what?” as he reached for a blanket to pull over them. 

Byakuya let himself be covered, somehow deeply pleased at the thought of sleeping there as his exhaustion surged again. “Why, if you’d already had satisfaction tonight, did you, did we-” Byakuya gestured to encompass their whole night. 

“Because - as you are learning - pleasure is its own justification. Climax is just one point along the path, but-” Ukitake tensed his body, sliding hands down along his torso and ending with a press against his still hard cock only just starting to wilt, “the entire path is worth walking for its own sake.”

Byakuya understood, he thought, or maybe, he was just beginning to understand. 

A dark flash caught his eye and he reached a hand up to pluck a black cat’s hair from where it was trapped in Ukitake’s white hair. He looked at Ukitake quizzically but he just smiled and blew the hair away with a soft breath before coiling himself tight against Byakuya’s side. 

“Sleep,” Kyoraku whispered as he slid in under the blankets behind Ukitake, and Byakuya, amazingly, obeyed

**Author's Note:**

> istg these boys are such a mess.... the next installment is gonna be Rangiku shamelessly pegging these two bc I just need some pointless, no strings attached, no emotional trainwreck, smuts.


End file.
